Page 159 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

I swirled the wine and Hunter returned before I could come up with an excuse to change the subject. His gait was slightly different. The prosthetic leg was still attached, but something about the fit had clearly changed.

He sat, and Clover handed him his water. Hunter looked between us, eyes narrowing. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No,” I said too quickly.

Clover said nothing. Hunter knew his wife well enough to understand something had happened. He also knew enough not to ask.

Everyone in this family seemed strangely good at leaving doors open without pushing anyone through.

Maybe that was why I kept finding myself standing in them.

The conversation moved on. Hunter noticed that I kept staring at his prosthetics, and I was embarrassed to be that person. Heat climbed into my face.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Staring.”

He shrugged. “People stare.”

The answer held no bitterness. I hated that I understood.

I clicked my teeth. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.”

Clover looked between us. Something clicked behind her eyes.

Hunter stood. “I’m getting us some dessert.”

Clover looked toward him. “You hate dessert.”

“I’m feeling adventurous.” He disappeared into the kitchen. He had given us privacy.

My throat tightened. It was now or never.

“I have one too,” I said. The words were barely audible.

Clover blinked in confusion. “What?”

I looked at her.

“A prosthetic.”

Her expression changed in surprise. “That’s why you asked.”

I nodded. My pulse started climbing. “I lost my left leg.”

Clover’s gaze dropped automatically to my jeans and boots. Then her eyes returned to mine. “I had no idea.”

“I know.”

“How long?”

“Five years.”

Her face softened and I immediately hated it. “Please don’t.”